


this poor mattress has seen some shit

by elliptical



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Trans Male Character, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 00:56:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5847613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliptical/pseuds/elliptical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Karkat fit together really, really well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this poor mattress has seen some shit

**Author's Note:**

> it's been like three yea RS SINCe i posted nsfw fic Goodbye World Cleanse Me Jesus

You're not sure why you're so surprised that Karkat's good with his hands. Probably because you're used to him being all bark and no bite, plus you've got zero of your own "hands on" experience with what to do in the bedroom and you miiight talk a bigger game than you can handle so you assumed he did too. You did not anticipate that his romance novels would actually be good for something.

"I never thought your romance novels would be good for something," you tell him breathlessly as he runs his fingertips over your sides.

"Eat my entire ass," he mumbles against the shell of your ear, his breathing uneven in a way that tells you he's trying way harder than he's letting on to keep his cool.

"I thought we just established that I'm not big into the whole rimming thing. What if I get your poop in my mouth, dude. What if I get horrible diseases from your ass hair, what if I - hhhhnn."

Karkat politely removes his teeth from your earlobe. "You're destroying the mood."

"Is it because I'm kinkshaming you? Shit, dude, all you had to do was tell me that you're super into feces flinging and I would've shhhhhnnnnnnnnnnahn."

He's rolled over to press your hips firmly against the bed, kissing down your jaw and sucking on the hollow behind your ear, his lips warming your skin where they touch you. One hand braced beside your head to hold him up, the other creeping across your chest, his thumb curiously circling your nipple.

"That feels good, fuck, do that again," you say.

He kisses your neck. You tilt your head back. "This is okay?" he says.

You're not sure if he's asking about the neck attention or the pinning or the fondling, but either way the answer is the same. "Yes," you say, closing your eyes, toes curling. "Yes, _yes_ , you're fine, you're fine, keep going."

"Tell me if you need - "

"I will," you say. "I will, _fuck_ , don't stop."

He takes this as a cue to suck on your neck. Good Karkat, best boyfriend.

You wrap your arms around him and tangle your fingers in his hair, rubbing at the bases of his horns, and get a steady purr as a reward. His hips press down against yours, the tip of his bulge pushing insistently against the fabric of both of your boxers. While he's distracted leaving hickeys over your skin, you run your hands over his spine and get a few handfuls of Vantass. Ah yes, one hundred percent plush rump for sale, way too good to show up on the bargain brand rack, the kind of ass they sell at designer stores full price and haggle for the -

"If you don't shut up," Karkat says with a little warning nip to your neck, "I swear on every existent and nonexistent deity, past present and future, including our own goddamn selves, I am going to gag you."

Oh. Whoops, you didn't realize you were mumbling out loud. "That would be kind of hot, though," you offer.

"Note taken." He laughs, his body shaking with it, and you - oh. Aside from being maddeningly turned on, you're... happy. Really really happy. There are exactly zero places you can think of where you'd rather be right now, aside from your impatience to fast forward to snuggling him in the post-orgasm afterglow.

Said impatience is what prompts you to wiggle underneath him, acutely aware of the aching between your legs. "Karkat."

He pulls back from your neck immediately, searching your face. His cheeks are dark with his flush, pupils blown wide, but he always gets like this when he's horny, like he's starving and has happened upon the most delectable beef tenderloin available at the meat market. Ayyyy.

Point is, his self control is still there, so he runs his tongue over his lips and says, "Still okay?"

"I want you," you say, and don't miss the minute way his eyes widen, "to fuck me."

"I thought we just got through the whole thing about how the chute is..."

"Not my ass, you uncomprehending fuckface, I want..." You press your hips up again, generating as much friction as you can against his bulge in the hopes that he'll get the message.

His throat clicks as he swallows. "Are you sure? I thought you didn't like..."

"I have never been more sure about anything in my entire life."

"Yesterday you said that about bagels being the best form of breakfast food and then fifteen minutes later Rose convinced you that muffins are better and you'd made a terrible mistake."

"Why are you mentioning Rose right now!" You pull on his hair. "Karkat, ffffuck me, why are you even questioning this."

"Because you're - we're - we're both thinking with our hindbrains and you're usually not comfortable and I don't want to do anything you're not going to be okay with later, I..."

"Karkat," you say, "I am so horny I'm in fucking _pain_ , if you don't get your bulge inside me right now then I will _sue you_ and I've got dibs on TZ as my lawyer."

"Why are you mentioning Terezi right now!"

"I'm not dysphoric, I wouldn't ask if I was, Karkat oh my god you're such a fucking asshole you're actually going to make me beg for this aren't you I bet you're getting off on it too will it help if I start calling you 'sir' I hhhooOOHHH MY GOD - "

Karkat keeps his hand in your boxers, rubbing careful circles around your clit. "So," he says, "how does this feel?"

"It feels like I'm going to murder you in your fucking sleep if you don't escalate this quickly."

Truth be told, you really aren't dysphoric. It's hard to be dysphoric when you're banging an alien with no concept of human gender and no concept of why you'd be dysphoric in the first place and who literally doesn't question your gender to begin with thanks to that. You're more likely to get anxious about how you're perceived than about where your body image doesn't match up to your ideal - the body dysphoria comes and goes, and right now it's peaking at an all-time low, so you tug on his hair again.

"Karkat, _please_ ," you say, and his pupils dilate even wider.

"Oh fuck, okay, yeah, the begging thing is kind of hot," he says.

"Then do something about it before I have to start reciting the names of the states and capitals to calm myself the fuck down, I can do that you know, we learned it all in seventh grade geography and had a big test about it and I aced it because we learned this whole song and I'm pretty sure I can still..."

He sits up and yanks his boxers off, his bulge springing free, his inner thighs wet with translucent red. Motherfucker looks like he's more worked up than you even anticipated and you have zero idea how he stays calm during this, you have to be the most vocal and responsive person of all time and all he does is change the rhythm of his breathing, what an asshole -

You take advantage of his distraction to pull your own boxers off. "Fuck me."

"Oh, so now we're being demanding about it?" Karkat folds his arms over his chest and ignores his bulge entirely even though it's curling against his stomach like a particularly agitated eel, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Maybe I should just sit here until you want to ask nicely."

You prop yourself up on your elbows and level a glare in his direction, pleased that you had the forethought to discard your shades. He needs the full impact of the Red Eyed Stare. "You know the whole hate romance thing you do? I think I'm starting to understand the merits of the hate romance thing."

"Noooo." He draws the syllable out like a kid protesting having their Matchbox cars taken away, but he does uncross his arms and straddle you again, so that's something.

"No," he repeats, leaning in and pressing the gentlest of kisses to your mouth. "I could never be black for you. Not even when you start talking about human celebrity relationships when I'm trying to explain quadrants."

"That's good, because there were a few more things I didn't get to tell you about Bradgelina."

"I wasn't challenging you, nookmunch."

You curl your arms around him and trace patterns over his back, closing your eyes and letting out a shuddering breath. "Fuck me? It's okay."

"Okay." He nods and kisses you again, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth, careful as always not to hurt you - even though they're blunter than the average troll's, his teeth are still sharper than yours.

You push your hips up again as his bulge nudges between your legs, finding your entrance without much trouble and pushing its way inside. You tense a little, expecting some residual feeling of grossness, but he's - he's warm, and between the two of you there's enough lubrication to avoid any pain, so all you get is the sort of gentle feeling of being slowly stretched and heated from the inside out. The aching lessens exponentially, especially when the tip of his bulge nudges a spot inside you and your whole body spasms.

"Dave?" Karkat holds himself completely still, save the involuntary undulation of his bulge inside you. "Still okay?"

"Hnn," you say weakly.

"Dave."

"Yes," you manage. "'Sgood, hnn, feels good."

He kisses you again. "Damn," he says. "It must. You stopped talking."

Your brilliant snarky retort is swallowed by a shaky moan as his bulge twists inside you. You cling to him, riding out the heady shocks of pleasure, trying to keep him as close as you can. He takes the hint, pressing tiny kisses over every inch of skin he can easily reach - forehead, cheeks, nose, lips, jaw, ears, underside of your chin...

"Karkat," you say, voice edging toward desperation as he twists just right again, your nerves lighting up, "Karkat, _Karkat_ , I'm gonna come - "

"Already?"

"Fucking fight me, I, hnn, Karkat, Karkat I can't - "

"Hold on," he says, and cants his hips in smooth motions, his bulge sliding partway in and out.

"Karkat I can't, I can't, I _can't_ I can't Karkat _please_ \- "

"Okay." He drops his head, tucking his face against your shoulder. "Okay, okay, you can come, it's okay," and you tighten down around him and go to pieces, legs sliding against the mattress as your body shakes.

You're vaguely aware of Karkat's bulge spasming a few times and then snapping taut, gushing genetic material, which flows out around him and puddles on the mattress. By the time he's rocked through his own orgasm, you're cresting the bottom of the mountain, shuddering with oversensitivity and borderline discomfort.

You're also too thoroughly fucked out to verbalize anything, so you just give another weak, "Hnn," as his empty bulge begins to retreat back into its sheath. He pulls the rest of the way out and lays beside you, chirring softly. When you roll onto your side to look at him, his eyes are half lidded and he's panting.

"Nnn," you tell him, because you are an excellent conversationalist.

"Nnn," he agrees.

You lay there in silence and catch your breath for the better part of ten minutes, until the slurry puddle cools to the point where it's uncomfortable. Your whole body feels pleasantly sore, the kind of stretch that comes after a workout, and you would really like to nap but the mattress...

"Kaaarkat," you say.

"Hmm?"

"We didn't use a pail."

He props himself up on one elbow. "Ah. Fuck."

"Gotta, hahaha, alchemize a new mattress, who should explain that?"

"I forgot you don't retain slurry. Dammit."

You pat your abdomen. "You came in me."

"Yeah. That. That definitely happened." He lays his head against the pillow with a groan. "Was that okay?"

"Mmm. What if I get eggpreg?"

"What if you get what?"

"What if I'm officially carrying your half-alien half-human mutant spawn offspring in tiny li'l eggs."

"Not even remotely how my biology works, dude. You're fine."

"I should have considered the eggpreg. Do human condoms work on tentacles?"

"Oh my god, any kind of pregnancy is literally not possible."

"Are you sure? 'Cause that's kind of the thing about eggpreg ouija. You never really know who did the gross alien laying."

"Ew." He stands up, remarkably steady on his feet considering everything. You guess it's because his species can't afford to have sex take the wind out of them, especially if they've got a whole quadrant dedicated to hatefucking. "We're going to go take a bath."

"Carry me."

"Okay," he says, hooking his arm under your back and legs.

"Wh- you're like a pipsqueak, there's no fucking way you - wow, okay, you really - welp, this is happening."

He carries you into the bathroom and sets you down in the tub, his voice dry as the goddamn Sahara. "Is this turning you on."

"Undoubtedly. I've never more in my life wanted to wrap my legs around you and climb you like the tallest tree in the jungle. Or maybe in this case the smallest tree in the jungle, since I've still got half an inch on you and that makes me the superior of the species. Hail Dave Strider, king of the urban metropolis for being half an inch taller than one certain Karkat Vantas, whose genes rode him a long way but just couldn't get him to the finish line..."

He turns the water on and slithers into the bath with you. "I love you," he says, abrupt and to the point.

"Oh." It's not the first time he's said it, but you're still not used to hearing it, so you say, "Okay," and then five seconds later remember to add, "I love you too."

"And you're really okay?"

"Mhmm. I had a really good time. Thanks."

"Well, I sure hope you had a good time, considering the sacrifices the poor mattress went through."

"Poor sweet mattress, tossed in front of a genetic material bullet in the line of duty." You nuzzle into his hair. "Guess that means we have to cuddle on the couch in front of a movie instead. For like. Hours."

"You drive a hard bargain, Strider," Karkat says, but he smiles, wide and soft and genuine, and you figure the tragic loss of mattress was worth it in the end.


End file.
